Love, Molly
by Kitty le Fay
Summary: The letters that Molly Hooper wrote to the people she hated, loved, and learned to love.
1. Dad

Dear Dad,

I've never really been sure about what happens after death, which is funny because I work with dead people. You could be an angel in heaven, a demon in hell or just a decomposed body in the ground. I don't know. All I do know is that this letter is for you. Just you…wherever you are.

I know that we've never really gotten along. You had your rules, I had my ways, and we had our disagreements. Just about any family does, but it wasn't until I was ten that I realized that our case was quite different. By that time I wasn't sure whether I loved or hated you, but my impression was that, in spite of everything–the arguments we had over spilt milk, the things you'd say about the clothes I wore, the way you'd punish me for failing a test–you did love me. You just didn't like me. Likewise, I don't think you liked mum or Charlie all that much, which seems fair. They don't like you either.

Mum filed for divorce when I was fourteen and Charlie sixteen. Most teenagers would be upset about hearing of their parents separating, but I, personally, felt relieved. So did Charlie, as a matter of fact. Finally, we were going to live with mum and live every single day of our lives without being afraid of someone that we were supposed to love. I remember the next couple of years being blissfully peaceful without you. Our weekends visiting you were never pleasant, but it was worth it to live the rest of the week as normal teenagers with good grades, good friends, and Charlie even found himself a good boyfriend.

Things were peaceful until three years later when you gave us a call, telling us that you had been diagnosed with stage four lung cancer. After all you did to me, my mother, and my brother, I knew that seeing you before your time was up would be just as important for me as it would be for you, if for nothing else but closure. You were much kinder during that time. I think it was because you felt bad about everything and wanted to make amends.

Your funeral was a strange day for me. Because I was never certain of whether I loved you or hated you when you were alive, I wasn't certain whether to mourn your death or to celebrate it now that you were dead. That was over fifteen years ago and I'm still unsure. On the one hand, I still hear your voice telling me that I'm not good enough. I have wasted well-earned money on therapist after therapist just to forget your voice and still I hear it in the back of my head every single day. On the other, you were never a bad man. You just had your bad habits and when you weren't indulging in those habits you were lovely. Sometimes you would play with me and make me laugh. You even said that you loved me a couple of times.

That being said, in spite of everything, I forgive you.

I know that you were sorry about all those things that you said to my mother, my brother, and to me, even though you were too proud to say so. I don't know if they will ever forgive you, but I will because I don't want to think of you and wonder if you're ashamed of me. I want to think of you and believe that you are proud of me...wherever you are.

Whether you're an angel in heaven, a demon in hell, or just a decomposed body in the ground, I want you to know that I forgive you and I love you.

Love,

Molly.


	2. Mum

Dear Mum,

I know that you think should never have married dad and had his children in the first place. I know that you think you should have left him sooner. I know that you think you're the cause of Charlie's drinking. I know that you think it's your fault that I still struggle with myself. I know that you think you're guilty of everything.

You are not guilty of anything, mum.

I know what dad did to you, not just when we were a family, but long before Charlie and I were even born. When the two of you met in university and he smiled at you for the first time. I know what it feels like to receive a smile like that only to have it bite your head off. I know what it feels like because I know that smile. Not too long ago, I met a man who gave me that exact same smile and, unfortunately, you know him. Everyone knows him now.

Jim wasn't too different from dad. He had me with a smile and, in the beginning, he was kind and charming and sweet. He brought me coffee at work in the morning, he took me out to nice places for dinner in the evening, and he treated me like a lady. Just like dad did to you, but then he turned sour. The whole country knows how.

My point is that I understand. I understand why you stayed with dad for so long. I was tempted to stay with Jim for a while, too, but I saw what staying with the wrong man did to you. It was hard, letting go of someone as perfect as that, but I had to do it. When I did I thought of the look on your face when you took Charlie and me away to live with gran before we could find our own place. I remember that you looked scared, but you were doing your best to hide that fear and you didn't dare let it stop you.

You gave me that strength, mum. Thank you.

I don't think you know how brave you are, mum. It took a lot of strength to leave dad and you gave me the strength to leave a man who wasn't right for me, to help a man who didn't love me, and to find the happiness I'd been missing. Thank you mum, for giving me the strength I've need these past three years.

Now that you've moved on and married someone else, I know that you feel guilty now and then. I do too, to be honest. I never got to make amends with dad either, but I think he would want us both to be happy. When you introduced me to David you said that he made you happy, but I don't think he did. He didn't make you happy, mum, and neither did dad. You made you happy. You were brave enough to leave someone who made your life a misery, strong enough to care for your children on your own and good enough to move on. You did all of that yourself, mum.

You are stronger than you think you are, mum. I'm proud of you and I love you.

Love,

Molly.


	3. Charlie

Dear Charlie,

Last time I saw you I thought you were going to die. I still remember the panic I felt when I found you on the floor of your flat, surrounded by empty cans and bottles. The whole flat stank of it. I don't think I'll ever breathe in the smell of lager the same way again. You're lucky I work in a hospital, Charlie, otherwise my doctor's instinct wouldn't have kicked in once I could tell that you were still breathing. I hadn't been so scared since the first time I saw you like this.

I must have been thirteen when I first watched you pass out from too much to drink. You had just come home from a party at a friend's place and you woke me up in the middle of the night. Mum and dad were still asleep, but I heard you crying among the stomping and stumbling. I remember creeping downstairs to see if you were okay, but you weren't. You were in tears as you took one of dad's whiskey bottles from the cabinet and fell over, crashing your head over the table. I froze, but you were lucky that mum woke up just in time to call 999 to send you to hospital.

When you woke up I thought you'd be happy to see us, but I will never forget the way your smile faltered when you saw dad's face and heard him muttering about how foolish you'd been. That's when I realized that I wasn't the only one who was affected by the things that he would say.

I know why you drink, so don't think I'm scolding you for it, because I know that he hurt you. I know that the things he said eat you up inside as you were growing up and that they still eat you up inside as an adult. I also know that he would make you feel as if you were alone, but you're not. He hurt me, too. The things that he said to me ate me up inside as I was growing up and they still do, no matter how hard I try to hide it. He hurt mum, as well. I can't speak for her, but I've seen what dad's words did to her and what they still do to her, even as she does her best to move on.

You have to move on, too, Charlie. We both have to move on. It's just as difficult to do so for you as it is for me, but I'm proud of you for taking a step a big as this. It's not easy to admit to having a problem, but I think that what you're doing is very brave. Mum and I both believe that you can get through this. Once you're out of rehab, we both promise to be there for you every step of the way.

We're proud of you, Charlie. I'm proud of you and I love you.

Love,

Molly.


	4. Sherlock

Dear Sherlock,

Because this letter is from me to you, chances are that you already know what it says. Of course you already know. It's you. You always know and, knowing that, I think you also know why it exists in the first place.

I was new to both the hospital and the city when I met you. I was fresh from medical school and had just moved into London for my first job at St. Bart's. The moment you saw me you knew everything about me; my good points, my bad points, and my ugly points. You knew things that even my closest friends didn't know. Personal things. For the longest time I thought it was because you cared. You were certainly good at acting as though you did. You saw me. That, alone, mattered to me. Naturally, I fell head-first in love with you and may well have broken my neck in doing so.

I meant it when I told you that you reminded me of my dad. He was a lot like you. Odd, in a way, cold. You even sound like him sometimes. He said horrible things too, but like you I don't think he ever meant to be horrible. I suppose that's what drew me to you in the first place, but he never told me that I mattered. No one has ever told me anything like that before.

As you know, while you were gone I wasted two years of my life with a man who looked almost just like you and just like you, he was already married to his work before we had even met. Just like you, he loved me in his own way and, just like you, he could not make me happy, no matter how hard he tried to. You, at least, knew that you could never make me happy and that I understand, but it didn't make things hurt any less. I cried for three days after he left and it wasn't until I stopped that I realized that it wasn't him that I was crying for. I had been crying because for too long I had been dragging my heart through the ground for someone who claimed not to have one.

You claimed once that I deserved to be happy. I loved you more than ever when you said that. Maybe you loved me back in your own way, but I knew that it was never going to be the same kind of love. You will never love me in that way, Sherlock, but the fact that you love me at all is enough.

I am happy, Sherlock. I'm happy because I know that I matter. I want you to know that.

At the very least, I want to thank you for being in my life. You're a good man and I love you.

Love,

Molly.


	5. Jim

Jim,

You think you know death after all the games that you have played with it, but I work with death. Since I was seventeen years old I have known death better than I ever knew myself. I know how death operates and I am well aware of its wicked sense of humour. Death and I are on good terms.

Death is not good enough for you, Jim.

We were at work when we first met. You said you were new to the hospital and needed someone to show you the ropes. You smiled at me, flirted with me, and even made me laugh a couple of times. Unfortunately, I am the type to fall in love too easily.

I loved the man who you pretended to be. I loved the man who greeted me with a kiss on the cheek, brought me coffee at work, took me out to nice places for lunch and dinner, kissed me with both the passion and tenderness of someone who'd loved me for years, and made love to me with that same passion and tenderness. I think you knew that I had always wanted that man, but then I probably should have known that he didn't exist and he never will.

I would have been fine if you had just turned out to be gay. Perhaps, if that were the only case, we would have been friends still, but when I saw you on the news for the first time I felt so disgusted that I had to vomit in the kitchen sink. I still feel ill whenever remember seeing your photograph on the screen. It didn't even look like you. It looked more like some sort of devil with dead eyes.

It makes my skin crawl to think that I even had anything to do with you. The fact that you lied to me and did all of that to innocent people is disgusting enough, but what disgusts me even more is that I didn't see any of it coming and that I let you get close to me. I let you buy me dinner and drinks. I let you step into my flat. I let you I let you sleep in my bed. I let you do all of that.

You did all of that to get close to Sherlock and I let you.

I find it strangely funny that I work with dead things and even I don't know if there is life after death. I've often wondered if there is and perhaps I'll never know, but I do know this: if there is a life after death, I will dance over your grave knowing that you are burning in hell for all eternity. If not, I will still dance knowing that you are nothing more than rotting flesh and bones in the ground.

I used to think that I didn't have a single hateful bone in my body, but I was wrong. I hate you.

Molly.


	6. Tom

Dear Tom,

When you asked me to marry you, you said that you knew from the moment you saw me that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with me. While I was sitting there watching you spill you heart out to me and wait for my answer, I couldn't help but mentally analyze why you thought such a thing. We only met through dinner with friends, after all, and we barely even noticed each other until dessert.

You walked me home that evening, which was nice of you, and I supposed I'd had quite a bit to drink because I'm not actually the type to bring someone to bed so soon. You were nice, though, and you made me feel good. I suppose that's why I didn't mind going as quickly as we did, saying we loved each other within a month, moving in together within two and then adopting a dog within three. Of course you were going to ask me to marry you next and of course I was going to say yes, though I don't think either choices were made for the right reasons.

Of all the things I told you about–my past, my hopes, my dreams, and my fears–I never told you this, but for years I was in love with someone who wasn't right for me. You know him, as a matter of fact. I knew him as the great consulting detective before even his closest friends did and I was in love with him then, even though I think I knew all along that he would never love me back. Despite knowing this, I tried my best to help him and to make him happy. I even risked my life for him and, still, he does not love me, not in that way.

My point is, Tom, that I know exactly what it feels like to love someone who isn't the one for you.

I think the reason I said yes to you was because I was afraid of being alone. When I realized this I knew that I couldn't be with you and be happy. I know how hard you tried to make me happy and I'm not saying that I'm ungrateful or that I never loved you, because I did. I just don't think we can ever love each other in the same way.

You were not a good lover, Tom, but you were a good friend and someone like that is hard to come by for someone like me. I'm glad that we agreed to remain friends. I am not the one for you, Tom, but whoever is, I hope that she can make you just as happy as you made me.

You're a good friend, Tom, and I love you.

Love,

Molly.


	7. Greg

Dear Greg,

As I am writing this letter, you are out with the lads and I have the very strong feeling that the next time I see you will be in the morning during the midsts of a hangover that you will deem well worth it. That's one of the many things that I admire the most about you. You could walk through a death camp and still look on the bright side. I have always admired your optimism, Greg, even long before you first asked me to have dinner with you.

I wasn't sure how to react when you did. You had always been a great friend, I won't deny that we've had our moments of innocent flirtation, and I may have even blushed a little when you told me a few Christmases ago that I looked lovely. I've just never thought of you as someone who would be interested in me in that way or vice versa. I suppose you could say that I've always had a certain type and it was a type that was never very good for me. Perhaps it's for that reason that I said yes. It was only a split decision, having dinner with a friend, but I believe that it was the best split decision I've ever made.

You have been my friend for years, but I don't think I ever really got to know you until that date and the next date and the next. I don't just mean the you at work or with friends, but you. The real you that accepts the real me.

You first held me at the door of my flat after our first date and it came with a soft kiss that seemed to brand itself on my cheek. You first kissed me on the South Bank after our second date and it would be the one kiss that I would remember for the rest of my days. You first made love to me on my sofa and it felt as if you had known where to touch me and how for years. We've had both our good times and bad. We've held each other when work gets to us. We've worked out our fights by making love. We've met each others' friends and families. We've gone away for weekends. We've suffered together. We've lived together.

At first, I thought it was strange, going through a relationship that went so smoothly, even through the tough times we've gone through. It was almost unsettling, but then one day we spent the entire day in bed together and I thought to myself: I'm happy. I have a good job, a nice flat, a wonderful group of friends, and this amazing man. For the first time in my life, I am genuinely happy.

I cried when you asked me to marry you. I've cried out of sadness or anger and I've even been moved to tears a couple of times, but I've never cried out of joy. I didn't even think you'd want to get married again after what happened between you and Carol, but there you were, down on one knee with a ring, asking me to spend the rest of your life with me and I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you. I can't wait to be your wife.

It took me ages to realize how much you mean to me, Greg, but all that time has been well worth the wait. I love you.

Love,

Molly.


	8. Baby

Dear Baby.

At the moment I am the only person who knows that you exist. Your daddy is at work now and, as difficult as this will be, I won't be telling him about you until after we're married, as a wedding gift. It will be difficult to keep you a secret, especially from your god-daddy, but it will be worth it to see the look on your daddy's face.

Your daddy is a wonderful man. He is also a very busy man, so he won't always be there when you need him, but I promise that when he is he will make you the happiest little boy or girl on the planet. I fell in love with your daddy very slowly, but I don't think it will take very long for you to do the same. He will make you laugh when you are sad, he will protect you when you are in trouble, and even though it may not seem so at times, he will always be there for you and he will always love you.

Your god-daddy is also a wonderful and busy man. He is also a very difficult man, but he does have a heart, no matter how much he likes to deny it. I think that sometimes he is also a very sad man, so please love him with care. I know that he can be difficult to love sometimes, but please love him and he will love you just the same.

Your uncle is equally as difficult and wonderful a man as both your daddy and your god-daddy, but he is wonderful nonetheless and if he ever seems strange or perhaps frightening to you, please remember that it is not his fault. He will care for you just as your daddy and I will, I promise.

You will never meet your granddad. He died a very long time ago, long before I even knew your daddy. I won't lie to you and say that he was a nice man because he wasn't. He caused a lot of sorrow and heartbreak to the people who loved him, which is why I want to teach you never to be like him and to never wind up with anyone like him. You are better than that.

Your grandma is a very brave woman. Although she may seem delicate, she is the bravest woman I know and my greatest hope is that, one day, she will inspire you to be just as brave. She has gone through so much and she has warred with herself just as many times as I have, possibly more than you ever will. All I mean to say is that while grandma may seem tired and sometimes sad, never forget that she loves you and that many of the sacrifices are the reason you exist.

As for me…well, me you probably know well enough already. You've been inside me for a good three weeks now, after all. I don't know if you are a boy or a girl and I don't even know your name. All I know is that I love you and I promise that I will never hurt you, judge you, mock you or do anything that makes you feel bad about yourself. I want to teach you and your brothers and sisters to love themselves just as your daddy and I do. You are my most precious one and I love you.

Love,

Molly.


	9. Molly

Dear Molly,

This is a letter from a happier version of you and it is for any time you feel the need to hear a friendly voice. By now you have probably heard your father's voice in someone else's, had a bad time with either work or a certain consulting detective, or perhaps had a fight with your husband. I wrote this now so that you will know the truth in such times.

You have gone through so much in your life and you are still here. I know that you sometimes take it for granted, but it really does matter that you are here after all you've been through.

All those things that your father said to you, about the way you look and act, are not true. You are not ugly, you are not stupid, you are not useless, you are not mousey, and above all, you matter. You matter to your friends, you matter to your family, you matter to your husband, and you matter to your child, but most of all you matter to yourself. Sometimes you may forget this and at those times you might deny it, but you do matter. You have always mattered.

I know that at times you feel as if no one loves you and let me tell you now that that is not true in the slightest. Your family has not always been perfect, but it is on the mend and this is because you come from a strong family that loves you very are also the heart of a group of strange and amazing friends. On of them, in particular, is quite possibly the strangest of them all and he may not always show it, but he does love you.

You have fallen in love and you have had your heartbroken, but you have loved again and I can't think of anyone else more deserving of your love than Greg. You may fight with him from time to time and, because of his job, he won't always be there when you need him. You already know this, but you also know that when these kinds of things happen in your relationship, sometimes you will be at your worst and think that he doesn't love you and is only with you out of pity. He is not. That man loves you with all of his heart and you know as well as I do that he has a big heart.

As for me, you might find it difficult to believe, but I do love you. I know very well that you often forget this and sometimes need reminding of it. I sometimes think that the reason for this is because you haven't been told enough in your life what a wonderful person you really are. You have been told too often that you don't count and I am telling you the truth when I tell you that is not true. You do count, Molly Hooper. You are beautiful, you are kind, you are strong, you are good enough and you do count. You have always counted and I will always love you.

Love,

Molly.


End file.
